


Extrapolations

by ByzanGrandyll



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: 3mix, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Pre-debut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25729300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByzanGrandyll/pseuds/ByzanGrandyll
Summary: Jeongyeon just wants to stay in the practice room all day and practice for her debut.Based on various tidbits about 3MIX's trainee days and exaggerating them as far as I can.
Relationships: Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Extrapolations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sajiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sajiko/gifts).



> Written for Sajiko's 2YEON writing contest. Thank you for giving me motivation to write something.

It happened last Friday evening. I was in the practice room again practicing Miss A’s _Bad Girl Good Girl_ , struggling to get into the right mindset. One of the instructors had told me my tempo was off that day. Actually, it was way off. I didn’t realize it until I was able to focus on myself in the mirror instead of worrying about the gazes of other people assessing me.

Finally, I had had enough of embarrassing myself in front of… myself, and navigated my way to the cafeteria, doing my best to make as little social contact as I could. The expedition encountered a few wrong turns and unwanted exchanges with people I didn’t recognize, but — on the bright side — I did find another restroom that was closer than the one I had been using up till then.

It’d been at least six months since I became a trainee, and I still barely know anyone here. Not even my roommates at the dorm. No one’s at fault for that except maybe me. Despite my initial fears of not fitting in, the company atmosphere is really friendly, friendlier than I’m used to. When I introduced myself to everyone, one girl (I think she was a foreigner) in particular seemed bent on getting to know me. She stood up and loudly proclaimed, “Oh, we’re the same age! We should be friends!”

I kinda freaked out and locked myself in the practice room for the rest of the day. And then did the same the day after that. Once I got used to seeking solitude at the end of every day’s instruction, I’ve repeatedly indulged the habit to the point that the JYP building is still a maze to me, since I never go anywhere else.

Lunchtime had passed hours ago, but there was still an abundance of leftovers waiting for me at the cafeteria. It didn’t matter to the workers that I always piled as much food as I could on my tray. Everyone else already ate by that time and the more food I took, the less that would go to waste later. After taking a seat by the doors, I nibbled on a piece of bread.

When no one was looking, I picked up my tray and hurried back to the practice room. Maybe one day future me will be powerful enough to eat anywhere she likes, but present me still isn’t allowed to eat in the practice rooms. Not like that’s going to stop present me from flouting the rules.

That was why — when I had returned, ready to fully embrace my solitude again — I almost dropped all my food. Since I wasn’t gone very long and the hallways were almost vacant, I didn’t even think about the possibility of someone taking my practice room before I got back. A girl with long, straight bangs and two protruding front teeth was singing with her back turned to the door. She held a water bottle up to her mouth for a microphone, which I thought was really cute. Unfortunately, mirrors work both ways and, while I was able to see her face, she was also able to see me obliviously walk in on her practice. 

Thankfully the walls were soundproof.

“Sorry!” She apologized, surprisingly not out of breath after what seemed like three lungs-worth of screaming. Despite my insular trainee life, I could tell she must be new. Usually performers didn’t lose their heads when other people watch them perform, but I couldn’t blame her.

It also might just be my appearance that scared her. Why did I trust Seungyeon to pick out a “girl crush” haircut for me in the first place?

“I didn’t know you were using—“ the girl’s embarrassment tinted her cheeks red and she tried to hide it by looking down. “There weren’t any other open rooms and this was the only one I could find to practice in after searching for almost an hour. I got lost trying to find one until now. First, I wandered into a restricted area and got scolded by one of the staff. Then, I accidentally entered the boys’ bathroom. And before this—” her stomach rumbled as if in realization that she hadn’t eaten yet “— I was too scared to ask where the cafeteria is…” Her gaze automatically dropped to the tray I was holding.

“Sounds like you’ve had an eventful day.” A sigh of relief left my lips once it became obvious that she wasn’t going to report me for smuggling in food. I stepped forward and held out my bowl of salad. I don’t like salad anyway. 

“My name’s Yoo Jeongyeon.” The reflection of my smile in the mirror came out stilted. I was still recoiling from hearing the human equivalent of a dog whistle. As for the girl in front of me, she looked like she was about to cry.

Thankfully, she stopped babbling long enough to recognize that I wasn’t going to do anything to her. The girl accepted the bowl and plucked up a slice of carrot and munched on it. “Im Nayeon.” She bowed slightly as she ate. “I promise I’m not usually like this. This is my first week and I’m still a little high-strung.”

I rubbed the back of my head. “It’s alright. It’s my fault for not checking before walking in.” I let out a nervous chuckle. “And I don’t have any claim on this room, anyway, so I’ll go find a different one.” I slowly headed for the door.

Before I could make good on that declaration, Nayeon called out to me. “Hold on, please!” I proverbially wiped my brow in relief. For a second, I thought she would just let me walk away without a word. While it’d probably contribute to the cool image my coaches were going for, I _really_ didn’t want to aimlessly walk up and down the hallways afterward, flaunting evidence of my rule-breaking. “The light was already on when I came in. I should have known someone was using this room. I’ll leave.”

“Okay.” I suppressed the urge to run away again before turning to look at her, smiling for real this time. It was clear neither of us needed the room for any serious practice. We both just wanted space to breathe. “How about neither of us leave? I don’t mind sharing if you don’t mind.” I held out my hand. After a moment of hesitation, she accepted the handshake, nodding her agreement. “Nice to meet you, Im Nayeon.” 

“Nice to meet you, too, Yoo Jeongyeon.” She seemed to be considering how the name sounded on her tongue. “You can just call me Nayeon.”

My smile widened. I didn’t think making friends would be as simple as this. I’ve had friends from school before auditioning, but I never thought I’d let myself assimilate into this life in the same way. Maybe being a trainee wasn’t just a hit-or-miss after all. 

My sole focus had always been on passing my evaluations and making the most of every opportunity I got. At the same time, I didn’t want to become too invested, since the chance of not debuting still loomed over my head every day as people came and left. Debuting has always been something I off-handedly bragged about to Grandma without any real conviction. 

I laughed when I saw Nayeon’s bowl was nearly empty already. She held it with both hands and nervously readjusted her grip every few seconds. “Do you want to share the rest of my food, Nayeon? I’m not really that hungry; I just grabbed whatever I could find.” I took out my chopsticks from the wrapper and snapped them both in half. 

Nayeon, trying not to make eye contact, took one of the halves and smiled back, hopefully and genuinely. “If you don’t mind.”

I was walking to school on Monday when I heard my name being called from behind. 

“Yoo Jeongyeoooon!” Nayeon barely avoided colliding with me by catching my shoulder to stop momentum.

Her breathing was ragged and her hair splayed across her face. The backpack that had slipped down to Nayeon’s elbows was threatening to fall off completely. I looked in the direction she had come from to check if she was being chased. Nothing followed her except the herds of middle-schoolers that were going the same place as us. Not more than ten seconds after her sudden greeting, she willed herself to stand again.

“Come on, we’re going to be late!”

Nayeon grabbed me by the wrist and forced me to keep up with her on her madcap dash for the front doors of the school. Within several minutes, we were past the school gate, still running. In another minute, we were in the building and Nayeon dropped her hold on me. She gasped like a fish out of water and clutched at her chest. 

I asked Nayeon for her room number and escorted her there (she told me on Friday that she had delayed transferring schools until today). We spent the time in silence, mostly out of respect for my friend’s lungs. She gave me her thanks as she entered the door to her classroom and the bell rung in the next couple seconds. From her seat, Nayeon turned her neck sharply to look at me still standing in the doorway. I stood there, not yet walking away, and waved.

“Yoo Jeongyeon!” The color had returned to Nayeon’s cheeks when she met me in my classroom during lunch. Stomping towards my desk, her hands slammed down over the book I was reading. Nayeon was about as intimidating as a rabbit, but it gave me a turn nonetheless. I never had visitors before and usually spent my lunches alone. My brow furrowed as I looked up at her.

“You don’t have to call me by my full name, you know. I’m younger than you.”

“I know _now_!” Nayeon looked down at me, arms akimbo. “Why didn’t you tell me you were one grade lower than me? I looked for you in all the classes in my hallway before someone told me you were an eighth grader.”

“I didn’t realize either, until you told me what room you were in. My own classroom information didn’t seem worth bringing up while you were busy wheezing in the hallway.”

“Excuse me? I wasn’t wheezing, I was… deep breathing.”

“Uh huh.” I deadpanned.

“It’s called meditation!” She raised her arms to stress her point.

“It's called being out of shape. Why were you running late anyway?”

Nayeon dug her toe into the carpet. In clearly no rush, she ruminated on her answer before saying, “I took a wrong turn somewhere on the way to school.” 

“You sure get lost pretty often.”

“That’s… true.” Nayeon lowered her arms. “But that’s not the point. I saw you taking your time back there and thought you were just resigned to being late, so I, being the caring friend I am, took it upon myself to make sure you would get there on time. I didn’t know that your class started at a different time. I thought you were in the same year as me.”

She was probably just being overdramatic, but my ears perked up at the word “friend”. It was the first time she used it and, while I had considered the word when thinking about my relationship to her, I didn’t think either of us would say it out loud at this point. “You think I make it a habit to come to school late? Me? A delinquent? Ha! Never.” I scoffed.

“Oh, please. Says the one who brings food to the practice room everyday.”

“I clean up afterwards!” My defense was more impassioned than I had intended. The unintended outburst brought a few curious glances my way, and Nayeon silently watched me squirm under the attention. I sat back in my chair and folded my arms. “Okay. Point taken. But it’s your fault for deciding to take me along with you without asking.”

“I was in a rush and you didn’t say anything! Who just goes along with someone for ten minutes without knowing why? Yoo Jeongyeon, if someday you find yourself prompted to go on a trip overseas with a group of middle-aged men away from civilization and you accept, I hope something bad happens to you.”

“What could go wrong? I get kicked in the leg by a horse?” That was the first thought that came to my mind.

“I bet you’d cry.”

“Would not!”

“Would so!”

“Like how you almost cried on the first day I met you?”

Nayeon straightened her posture. “Is that the bell I hear? I guess lunch is over. Gotta go. Don’t want to cut it close again.” She walked out of the room mechanically without looking back.  
I called out to her as she entered the hallway. “I was going to offer you some of my lunch that my dad made me, but never mind!”

I didn’t think the offer of free food would be enough to make her backtrack. It was like watching a film run backwards at 2x speed. “Who cares about being punctual? I’ll just sprint to my class again like last time.” Nayeon crouched down beside my desk. With one hand stacked over the other palm-down, she cushioned her chin resting on the desk’s surface.

“Ugh, you’re relentless. I was just joking.”

At that, she tilted her head and pouted.

“Fine!” I picked up my bag from under my desk and fished out the packed meal with leftovers I had been planning on eating after school. “Only because you’re cute.” I muttered the second part under my breath.

Not seeing Nayeon at school the next morning made me think maybe she had gotten tired of me, but I found her waiting for me in the same room we met in four days ago. “You’re still singing that song?” I called as I entered the practice room. Nayeon cut off the music and took the tray from my hands to place on the only chair in the room.

“Well not anymore.” She picked up a pair of chopsticks and snapped it in half lengthwise.

“I brought two pairs this time!”

“I know. But are you going to use the other pair whole while I have to make do with only half of mine?”

Grumbling that I wasn’t to blame for her actions, I held out my hand for Nayeon to give me the other half anyway. “You just like stealing my food, don’t you? If it isn’t someone else’s, it doesn’t taste as good.”

“You know me so well.” 

“Figures.” I held the largest piece of meat I could grasp with the defective utensil. Before I could deliver the morsel to my mouth, however Nayeon swooped in and ate it straight out of my chopsticks.

My fingers loosened. I stared at Nayeon’s smug face with my mouth agape. 

“That’s it. I’ll just use the other pair of chopsticks.”

Before I could reach, she snatched them away. “I’ll make up for it!” She held out a piece of tteokbokki towards me. “You should be grateful to me for putting myself in debt to you.”

“Wouldn’t that just cancel out your debt each time you owe me?” _Wait. Why did I even acknowledge that absurd statement?_ I shook my head. “Since when did you become so confident?”

Instead of answering, she slowly started moving the food towards me. “Say ‘ahh’.” 

I opened my mouth and leaned towards it. At the last second, she jerked her hand upward and smeared the tip of my nose with sauce.

“You missed.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Gee, thanks. I didn’t notice. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

“Beats me.” She shrugged her shoulders. 

That gave me an idea. 

I moved around the chair to take my seat on the floor next to Nayeon. Scooting closer, I rested my chin on her shoulder. “What are you doing?” She tried to peel me off with her free hand, pushing my face with her palm, but I stuck to her like glue.

“Has anyone told you your hands are humongous? Also, if you must know, I am resting because my practices cause me to actually sweat.” 

“Well maybe you should take a break from dancing and try singing.” As she lifted her chopsticks to her mouth, I leaned over to try to intercept her. In response, she tilted away from me sideways in her seated position and I followed. As we continued to vie for the food, our position became more and more precarious like a buoy in a storm while the waves threaten its balance. I was practically lying on her side by the time I gave up.

While she lay there, savoring her “victory”, I took the liberty of gorging myself on the rest of the food. When Nayeon noticed what I was doing, she let out a whining noise. I didn’t put up any resistance this time when she joined me and we both fell silent.

After a couple minutes, I spoke up again. “Do you have something against dancing?”  
“What do you mean?”

“All you ever do is sing, but we get evaluated on more than just singing. Haven’t you taken any dance classes yet?”

“Of course I have. I just like singing. What about you? Why do you practice dancing all the time? You’re much better at singing.”

“If I’m already better at singing, then I have more time to work on my dancing and facial expressions.”

“But why?”

“To debut, dummy. How are you going to be in a girl group if you can’t dance or act out a concept?”

“I can look pretty just standing there, thank you very much.” Her bold proclamations were returned with silence. “Tough crowd.” Nayeon rolled her eyes at me. “I know I have to be decent at all these things, but it’s not my top priority.”

“Isn’t trying to debut the only reason to practice?”

Nayeon hummed thoughtfully and tapped her chin with the side of her chopsticks. “Let me start by asking a question: If you never existed and someone asked you to be born, under what minimum conditions would you agree? What would make being a better state than not?”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t think about it too much. It’s just to prove a point.” As if taking my befuddled look as cue to start her explanation, she began. “I was casted by JYP twice. The first time was a couple years ago, but my mother wouldn’t let me start training because I was too young. She wanted me to grow up and find a reliable job instead of gambling my life away to become a singer.” Nayeon adjusted, turning her body so her back was against the wall, and stretched out her legs. “I don’t remember what I wanted to do at the time, but I can’t blame her even if it was against my wishes then. I don’t think I would’ve been able to tell — at that age — the difference between a Big Three entertainment company scout and a ringmaster asking my mom to let me join the circus.” 

“The world of sword-eating fire jugglers suffered a tremendous loss on the day you joined this company.” I broke in solemnly.

“And I’m sure amateur hour at the local comedy club sorely aches for losing you.” Nayeon shot back with her own snark. Her eyes softened a little with her next words. “But thank you for not insinuating that I’d be a clown in an alternate universe.” Sincere appreciation trickled through her voice. “Though I can’t say either image is very flattering.”

“Anytime. And that stand-up comedy dream isn’t as far off as you think.” I winked as I chewed the last bite of beef. “So how’d you end up getting casted for the second time?”

“Well,” Nayeon seemed eager to return back to the topic, “as I got older, I found out I really liked singing. Years went by since that initial opportunity and I never stopped bugging my parents to let me audition. I didn’t cared about the fact that there was a good chance I wouldn’t debut. I didn’t care about the fact it might distract me from finding some less satisfying but easier alternative to dissolve into when it doesn’t work out. If life is meant to be spent working just to live and living just to work, we’ve fallen into a fallacy. Should I choose my career because it lets me make a living, start a family, and eventually retire? That’s like asking me to climb a mountain because it’s difficult to climb down. Or to keep building onto my house of cards lest it collapse. If I’m going to live, I’ll do it because it’s better than the alternative; not because I’m afraid of going backwards. 

“I listened to all my mom’s warnings about how few singers are able to make a living off of it and that, if I wanted to make sure I could live the life I want, I should get an education first and then make an informed decision. I figured the first reason didn’t matter as long as I could prove that I already knew how I wanted to live my life.” She looked at her finger, absentmindedly twirling one of her locks around it before letting it naturally fall back into its place. I leaned forward to hear what kind of eloquent argument Nayeon made that somehow convinced her mom to let a 14-year old without much life experience follow her dreams. “So I auditioned behind my mother’s back.”

“And you call me the delinquent!”

“What? How else was I going to prove to my mother that I was really passionate about singing if I didn’t show results? It’s one thing to get casted once, but the second time, without telling anyone about my past going in, you can’t call that luck.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed by the fact. However, I felt like she already had a big enough head without me adding fuel to the dumpster fire that is her ego. “Yeah. Someone must be really bad at scouting to make the same mistake twice.”

“AHAHAHAHA!!” That was all the warning I had before I found myself sprawling on the floor from Nayeon’s shove. “Maybe you _should_ do stand-up comedy. I’ll bring my friends and we can pelt you with rotten tomatoes!”

“Tough crowd.” I sat up and saw Nayeon ready to throw a scallion. “No wait! Not in here!”

As we left the practice room, I recalled the conversation we had before finishing lunch. “You still didn’t tell me why you won’t practice your dancing.”

“Oh?” Nayeon tilted her head again. _Cute_. “Because you’ll laugh at me.”

“Fine. Lie about it.” I said. “I bet it has to do with your need to justify your actions solely for their intrinsic merits, or some other hipster reason. And dancing isn’t something you like doing.”

“Sue me for wanting to do something I enjoy!” She held up her hands in surrender. “But, honestly, I don’t mind dancing as long as it’s not you watching.”

“I dance in front of you and yet you don’t laugh at me.”

“That’s because you’re better than me!”

“Only because I’ve trained more than you.”

She shook her head. “I’m not a very strong dancer. My legs are a little weak after getting in a car accident a couple years ago.”

Even considering how she ran half a mile yesterday without stopping, the protective instinct in me couldn’t overlook the fact which she brought up so casually. “I didn’t mean to — I had no idea. Are you okay? Do you think it’ll make dancing harder for you if you debut?” I looked down at her leg, almost expecting to see her walking with a limp all of a sudden.

Nayeon karate chopped me on the head, bidding me to look up. “I’m not a cripple, if that’s what you’re worried about. I can get around just fine, and my doctor said I would probably be able to dance at full capacity if I just ease into it. For now, my dance teachers are trying to make gradual progress to accommodate me since I hadn’t been exerting myself physically since.” She looked away when her neutral expression wavered for a second. 

Something told me this had to do with why her mother was afraid to let Nayeon audition. Maybe she was scared Nayeon would be disappointed when she couldn’t give her all to what she loved. It must have been frightening to be going all the way with this career choice having full knowledge an accident that occurred in childhood might hinder her down the road. If only the past wasn’t what it was or if only she had chosen a less physical aspiration. But it wasn’t her fault on either account.

Her voice softened considerably. “So don’t worry about me like that. You’re making it hard to…”

She trailed off at the end of her sentence and I couldn’t catch what she said. Hopefully, Nayeon wasn’t recalling any trauma from the experience. I pulled her into a sideways hug as we walked outside the building. She didn’t struggle when I decided to stay with her.

I scolded myself internally for not even asking Nayeon for her phone number last time. Because of that, I’ve been led to walk around the area where Nayeon had found me that Monday morning in hopes of walking to school with her again. Today, I woke up early and ate a lighter-than-usual breakfast to make sure Nayeon wouldn’t get here before me, but it’s been about fifteen minutes and she still hasn’t shown.

That’s probably because I started walking thirty minutes earlier than I usually do.

“Yoo Jeongyeon.” The first significant wave of students to cross my path brought Im Nayeon with it. She had stopped walking when she saw me as the rest of the world (about 12 kids in a loosely-packed covey) passed us by. When foot traffic had cleared up, she walked over to me. “Why are you walking back and forth? Did you hit your head and are trying to remember whether you’re heading home from school or to school from home?”

“Uhhh.” I scratched my head, trying to come up with a reason that didn’t make me sound more ridiculous. “Oh!” I pointed at a bevy of students in our uniform. “It looks like they’re going to school. Let’s follow them to make sure.” Placing my hand on Nayeon’s back, I urged her to walk with me.

Her only response was to let herself be ushered forward without protest. I could only guess she was amused enough not to question it.

“So… today’s Wednesday.” I said after a few minutes of walking.

She gasped and looked at me. “Did someone tell you? How did you find out?”

“I can read a calendar just fine, thank you very much.” I tried to not look as wounded as I felt. I think a part of my brain was crying at the insult. “Anyway, since it’s Wednesday, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Film Club with me. It’s every Wednesday and Thursday after school. That is, if you don’t have any other plans?”

“Oh.” Nayeon looked like I had just delivered her a punch to the face. “I’m sorry. I made plans with someone else after school today. I’ll see you at the company?”

“Yeah. Sure.” I kept my eyes ahead of me as I walked, wary to not turn to the left or to the right in case she would look into my eyes and they betray my disappointment.

If a balloon could be inflated with a multitude of excited, conflicting emotions like gas molecules, bouncing around and colliding with each other — clustering and scattering and shooting off in every direction without regard for anything — and if such a balloon was placed in the freezer, I think this is how it would feel.

It was stupid. I had darted off to the practice room as soon as we had finished. Maybe it wasn’t yelling, but it was as close to yelling as I’ve ever received. I deserved it and more, of course. I had stepped on my partner’s foot more than once because I wouldn’t allow myself to focus and I forgot the lyrics to the song I had been singing for nearly a month now. When I told them that I didn’t get enough sleep last night, they excused me because I was usually more diligent than most.

It wasn’t a complete lie, since I did force myself to wake up early. Nevertheless, it was in vain. I even forgot to ask for her phone number.

I almost opened the door to the practice room before remembering that vocal lessons ended later on Wednesdays. I usually used one of the piano rooms to practice singing because the bigger rooms for dancing would always be taken at this time.

And that meant Nayeon would have no idea where I was because it’s on a different floor altogether. Hopefully, if she was already out, Nayeon didn’t walk in on some random person, expecting to find me. What was I supposed to do, though? Leave a sign on the door telling Nayeon where she could find me? Ask the person in our usual practice room to relay the message in case Nayeon was careless enough to walk in without checking? I couldn’t wait outside in the hall in case someone thinks I’m just slacking off or worse: decides to start a conversation with me.

So I decided to go to my usual practice room as usual. For the same reason I couldn’t  
stand around hoping to find Nayeon, she probably wouldn’t be waiting for me to find her. The lights were off inside the room and the lack of windows made the shadow underneath the door darker.

When I opened the door however, expecting it to be empty like it always is, the sound of Nayeon’s song hit my ears not for the first time, but now I felt like I really heard it. She must have heard me enter in as she began the final chorus, but she didn’t stop.

“Though I appear as an ugly duckling,  
I won’t be able to fly with these small wings.  
Surely, when my song ends,  
We’ll be able to meet then for sure. 

One, two, three, as I count white sheep,  
Even I won’t realize when my tears begin to fall.”

As the last notes rung out, I began a slow clap. It was eventually the only sound in the room and Nayeon opened her eyes again to see me standing in front of her. A gentle smile spread on her face. She spoke with a mix of playfulness and affection. “That’s the first time you let me finish the darn song.”

“And I would’ve let you finish the other times if you weren’t off key.”

“Oh please. You didn’t have to say anything for me to scream your ears off the first time you interrupted me.”

“I know.” I chuckled. “Just teasing you. You were great both times prior to this.”

“Thanks.”

“How’d you know I would be here today?”

“What do you mean tod— Oh, yeah.” Some sort of realization dawned on her just then. Before I could ask again, she cleared her throat. “Ahem. Actually, this entire time, it was Jisoo.” She apparently thought that the name would mean something to me, because she looked at me expectantly. When I didn’t react, she asked, “You don’t know Jisoo? Park Jisoo? The girl who’s friends with almost everyone in the company?”

After giving the name some thought, I was able to confirm again that I was absolutely friendless aside from Nayeon. I shrugged.

“She has big eyes and baby cheeks and long, straight hair that goes down to her shoulders?”

“Oh!” The memory of my first day at JYP resurfaced. “The Indian girl? I didn’t know she had a Korean name!”

My description of her caused Nayeon to facepalm. “She has a Korean name… because she’s Korean. I know she looks exotic, but — you know what? Forget it. So you’re saying you’re not friends with her?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Last Friday, she tricked me into using your practice room after promising it would be empty. When I checked and found out she was right, I assumed someone had left the lights on for me knowing I was coming. Then you opened the door and walked in, and I thought I’d been taken advantage of for a prank on my third day here, but then you spoke to me and made me feel at home for the first time since I joined JYP.

“Tuesday, I regretted not talking to you at school and I missed you. I asked Jisoo to help me find you again and you were right where she expected you to be.

“Today, Jisoo told me you wouldn’t be in the dance practice room, and took me directly here so I wouldn’t get lost. When I asked her to join us, she hesitated and said that she had to do something.”

“I— How does she— When did she—“ my brain tried and failed to form coherent questions before settling on the one that’s been on my mind even before this conversation. “Is this Jisoo the girl who invited you to karaoke?”

Nayeon nodded.

“Just her and no one else?”

Nayeon nodded again. “We talked about—“

“Congratulations~! Congratulations~!” When I looked outside to the source of the noise, a procession of people filled up the hallway. Trainees peeked their heads out their respective rooms to stare at the commotion and joined in at the tail behind everyone else as they sang. At the head of the pack was, presumably, Jisoo next to JYP who was carrying a cake with candles that read “15” already lit. He had a goofy, oblivious smile on his face as he marched along, beckoning kids to join as he walked by.

I stepped back into the room as they approached our door. To my utter horror, JYP turned into the very room we were occupying. He raised the cake above his head and shouted, “Happy birthday, Im Na—“

“PD-Nim.” Jisoo hissed next to him. “No food in the practice rooms, remember?”

At Jisoo’s words, everyone took a synchronized step back. “To the commons, everyone!” JYP announced. Because of how narrow the turns were in the hallway, the crowd became more like a conga line blown out of proportion, the carefree notes of the congratulations song fading as they passed.

“What was that?”

“So… I may have mentioned to the hostess that it was my birthday at the karaoke place so we could get free cake. And now Jisoo has rallied all of JYP Nation to celebrate.”

“I mean, why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” I spun around and pointed an accusatory finger at her, to which she held up her hands.

“I didn’t want anyone to know, honest!” She began walking to the door. “Now, come on. There’s like 200 of them and only one cake. Someone’s bound to get their hands on it if we don’t get there fast enough.”

“Nayeon, what took you so long?” Jisoo instantly embraced Nayeon in a hug when we got to the commons area. There was already a full-blown party going on despite the lack of confections and decorations. On the way there, I shuddered to hear someone scream out, “PARTY PEOPLE”. A solid majority of the revelers were dancing to JYP’s _Don’t Leave Me_ and competing to see whose voice could prevail amongst the others.

Before Jisoo could lead Nayeon through the bedlam to blow out her candles, Nayeon made me promise to stay where I was and wait for her.

A few seconds into trying to do just that proved to be much more difficult than I could reasonably expect. The company staff had burst onto the scene and the growing population was accommodated by expanding the dance floor to the area around me. I was hemmed in on all sides and the worst part of it was that people were beginning to approach me rather than walk around me in a six-foot radius. Each time I declined people’s invitations to dance or play a game, I’d get three more naive requests just like the last. 

Either there were so many people that my usual 0.001% chance of an interaction per second turned into 99.999%, or I was wrong about Seungyeon’s haircut being a stupid choice after all. I was not going to accept the latter option and decided 10 minutes was enough time to wait for Nayeon and that I’d be better off searching for her myself. 

Apparently navigating through a party is a lot like getting caught in the rain. If I stay where I am and don’t move, I only interact with people in that area. If I run and try to get out of the rain as soon as possible, I get soaked even faster. At least the rain didn’t make you stop and expect you to listen attentively to it every time a raindrop landed on you. An incorporeal snail would probably cover more ground than me in the same amount of time it took for me to finally see the edges of the crowd and realize that I’d be better off trying to find an ice cube in the Pacific Ocean than to find Nayeon in this mob.

I returned to the practice room and expected Nayeon to look for me there when the party finally was broken up.

She didn’t.

As a result of the human barricade making it almost impossible to leave the JYP building, I was late to getting back to my dorm. Apparently, JYP made all the kids go home at 7 pm, but I was in the practice room at the time he made the announcement. I was stuck inside until the adult party (by which, I mean they danced to outdated JYP songs over the Wonder Girls and 2PM) finished. By then, it was already 1 AM.

I didn’t even have the energy to be surprised when I woke up and read the time on the clock. Content to get to school at my own pace, I lethargically changed into my uniform, sprinkled water on my face, brushed my teeth, and walked out the door with my backpack. The excuse I planned to tell the teacher was: “Dog got stuck in the mailbox”. It sounded like a solid plan.

I stepped out of the dorm and came face to face with Im Nayeon. 

Something about seeing her made my blood boil. My grip on my backpack tightened, my teeth clenched, and I felt an irresistible urge to kick the mailbox next to me.

Before I could give in to the temptation, Nayeon broke the silence. “So…”

“So.”

“Did you know that Jihyo, for the past six months since you’ve joined the company, has singlehandedly asked nearly half of the people from JYP to try to be your friend, including the members of Miss A, 2PM, and the Wonder Girls?“

I didn’t respond. I simply stepped forward until Nayeon and I were face to face, less than a foot apart from each other.

At that moment, nothing mattered. I didn’t care that Nayeon, despite all my failed efforts to see her, just magically appeared in front of me on a whim. I didn’t care that my perfect attendance record was about to be completely blotted by some maniacs who decided to drop everything so they could congregate around a single birthday cake for a trainee who hadn’t been in the company more than a week. I didn’t care that my life was at the mercy of an Indian girl who wasn’t really Indian and who apparently found out every detail of my life because we’re the same age and ought to be friends. Seriously, though, who did she think she was? God? 

I came to realize, in the past couple days, that there were no such things as definite milestones. Life couldn’t be laid out in terms of goals I needed to commit to individually. While I’ve been trying to establish an order in my life by sequencing my objectives — mastery of singing, then dancing, then praying I debut, then debut, then praying I don’t suck — and focusing only on one thing at a time, I’ve been cutting off my own happiness all the while, demanding it wait its turn like everyone else.

But when will happiness ever get its turn?

“Can I have your phone number?” I asked.

When we finally got to school, I was late. Nayeon was even tardier, but I told her homeroom teacher that it was my fault because I had stopped her in the middle of the sidewalk to help me get my dog out of the mailbox. I didn’t know the woman, but for some reason, she completely bought the story. Maybe the fact that there were two of us made it seem more authentic. I tried telling my own homeroom teacher the same story while leaving Nayeon out of it and she punished me by making me stay after class to write a letter apologizing for being late and then trying to make up a stupid excuse that insulted her intelligence… then she told me to mail the letter in the mailbox to her when I got home.

To make a long story short, I missed more than half of _Return of the Jedi_ by the time I finished. Of all the days for me to miss, they had to be showing a _Star Wars_ movie in Film Club. As I hurriedly took my seat, I noticed Nayeon sitting in the corner with her head down on the desk. She must've been waiting for me since I got held back after class. I walked over and sat down next to her. One glimpse of her up close was enough to take my attention off the movie completely. Her breathing was gentle and I pressed the back of my hand against her cheek to ascertain that yes, it was as soft as it looked. Some of her hair fell over her face and I brushed it back.

“I asked my dad and he said we can have you over for dinner on Saturday if you'd like. I go home on the weekends. That’ll be my late gift for your birthday.”

She sighed and nodded her head.

_What did I do to become so lucky?_

“Honestly?” She lifted her head up slightly, mumbling. If she was awake, she was only barely lucid. “I think it was the haircut.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone knows what 2Yeon fic the "dog got stuck in the mailbox" is a reference to, leave the title of the fic in the comments. Maybe more people will read it. Hint: It's a social media AU.


End file.
